


not the end of the line just yet

by jubileechase



Series: our chance at a happy ending [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, Coming Out, F/M, First Kiss, M/M, Old Peggy Carter, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Up all night to get Bucky, Yes again, but like...... in chapter five only, but only a little bit at this stage, flashbacks 2 the 40s, idk what to tag this as yet, it's a different character this time, theyre going to move to brooklyn, things r getting exciting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8845246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubileechase/pseuds/jubileechase
Summary: bucky barnes is alive.he's brainwashed. he's been through hell. he barely recognised steve.but he's alive.





	1. and i hope, sometimes you wonder about me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how was steve rogers meant to go on with his life now that he knew bucky barnes was out there?  
> and how was the winter soldier meant to go on being the winter soldier now that he knew he was bucky barnes?
> 
> (title from i almost do by taylor swift)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually happening during tws?? like in between steve getting out of the hospital and fury's fake funeral.

               Steve had been on countless jogs around Washington since moving there. Every morning at sunrise, he would get up and run. It was good, the cold morning air and repeated motions taking his mind off of the bigger issues, and giving him time to focus on small things. But this morning, there was one big issue that he couldn’t stop thinking about. Truth be told, he had never really stopped thinking about him, but the past week had been something else. He was all that occupied Steve’s thoughts. And he was still out there. Bucky meant the absolute world and more to Steve, but there was no way to pretend that Steve hadn’t noticed the absolute indifference in Bucky’s eyes on the hellicarrier. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. Could he even really call him that anymore? Did he even really have a name anymore? Was he really still in the world, or did the real him die when he fell off the train? Steve shook his head. He couldn’t give up hope. Sure, there were some things Steve knew could never be saved. And there was a time, from the side of a train going through the sky surrounding a mountain range, that he believed Bucky was one of those things. But he had seen him. There was no way that he was truly gone forever. The Bucky Barnes that Steve knew and loved was still in there, no matter what Hydra did. Steve just worried that he would still be as indifferent towards him as he was on the bridge.

               But he wouldn’t be, surely. Steve had seen it. Bucky had pulled him out of the river. Bucky had saved his life. He was still in there. He had recognised Steve, even if he didn’t know it yet. And Steve couldn’t just leave him out there alone, though he had no idea where he could find him. If only there was some sort of way to try and work it out…

               Steve halted, and pulled his phone out of his pocket to dial Natasha’s number. She picked up after two rings.

               “Hey.” She said.

               “I need to ask you a favour.”

               “Sure, what is it?”

               Steve paused, and inhaled sharply. “I need you to get me the files on Bucky from when he was The Winter Soldier.”

               There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “Steve, are you sure? I know a little bit about the stuff they did to him, and it wasn’t pretty. Those files…”

               “Could contain some of my strongest chances of finding him. Please.” Another pause. “You know how much he means to me.”

               “You know I do. And I don’t want you to have to see him like that.” She swallowed. “I’ll get the files to you as soon as possible.”

               “Thanks.”

               “Of course. I’ve got to go, I have to do a press conference about the SHIELD secrets I exposed.”

               “Good luck.”

               “Bye.” Natasha said as she hung up. Steve stood still, staring at the blank phone screen for a moment before putting it back in his pocket and continuing to jog. Even if the files didn’t give him any clues as to where Bucky may be, at least he would have answers to so many of the questions that had been haunting him. And maybe they were ones that he shouldn’t know the answers to, ones where not knowing would be better than knowing. But he would still stop at nothing to find out.

 

 

               The Winter Soldier – James? Bucky? That’s what the man from the bridge and the hellicarrier called him, anyway – sat at the corner table of some generic chain coffee store. He was always given a small amount of money for missions, in case he ever needed to purchase something or bribe someone, but it usually wasn’t necessary. He had already bought some clothes; jeans, a red shirt, a jacket and a cap, and was wearing them in hopes of blending in. The money was slowly running out, but he had other things on his mind. It had been over a week since the fight on the hellicarrier. And he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He subconsciously pulled his left sleeve over his metal hand as he replayed the events in his mind yet again. Something about the face of that man stuck in his head, no matter how hard he tried to forget. He knew he should. But how could he? He was so… unforgettable. But not just in the way that you could pass him on the street and keep thinking about him later. He knew that he had seen this man before, perhaps in a past life. Or maybe a part of this life that had been locked away. And as a series of undecipherable memories made their way to the surface of his psyche, that seemed more and more likely. Whoever the Winter Soldier really was, he seemed so much happier in his past life, with a skinny blond kid who kept causing chaos. A name lingered on the edges of his brain, but he couldn’t truly reach it yet. But something in him knew that this skinny kid in his faded memories had something to do with the man on the bridge and the hellicarrier. The one he felt a desire to protect and save. The one he _did_ save – he jumped off the hellicarrier and pulled him out of the river. And while he couldn’t quite place why exactly he did that, he felt a very strong connection to this man, and had the feeling that he would save him again and again should the situation present itself. Finally, he took a deep breath and stood up to go order a coffee and something small to eat. After placing his order, the cashier asked for a name. He hesitated for a moment, but without really thinking, the word “Bucky” came out of his mouth. It felt right on him, like finding a piece of home after a tragedy. _And I guess,_ he thought, _that is sort of what happened to me._

He sat back at his table, trying to churn over what he knew in his head as he drank his coffee. He knew the man on the bridge. He knew that he shouldn’t even remember seeing him on the bridge; he should only remember the hellicarrier. But why? Why wasn’t he supposed to remember who his mission was? His mission… _Captain America_ … Captain America. It wasn’t his full name but the title was enough of a start. It was familiar. He could almost hear a voice in the back of his mind shouting “Let’s hear it for Captain America” a long time ago; a voice, he realised with a pang, that belonged to him. And there he was. The man. From the hellicarrier, from the bridge, from his mission, from his fragmented memories. With a lopsided blue helmet over his golden hair and the morning sun shining on his eyes and that _smile_ …

               Bucky picked up the coffee cup and left the café. As he walked down the street, his eyes were caught by a familiar pattern on a red, white, and blue poster stuck on a shop window. It advertised a museum exhibit… on Captain America. He looked around him to make sure nobody was watching before he took the poster, memorised the name of the museum, and folded up the paper to put it into his pocket. He asked the next person who walked by for directions to the Smithsonian.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY AN UPDATE!! it has been way too long. but yeah, if you've been on here for ages and know anything about me, you'll know that a bit of this used to be a one shot with the same name as this chapter. and then i got to work on this series and realised What I Had To Do. so here we go. things are going to get really good soon i promise. feel free to leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed!! thanks!


	2. i know my kingdom awaits (and they've forgiven my mistakes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he knew what he had to do now.  
> and he knew he was going to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title is from coming home by skylar grey

               “This is all my fault.” Steve muttered, eyes fixed on the photo of Bucky in that cryogenic chamber. Sam looked up from his laptop across the table.

               “What?”

               “I could have saved him. I could have reached just that little bit further when he was falling and…” His voice trailed off as he felt tears starting to form, stinging in his eyes. He looked away from Sam, trying to stop his gaze from drifting back to the file sitting in front of him.

               Sam lowered his laptop screen slightly. “Steve. There’s nothing you could have done. Either you would have died or you both would be... how he is.”

               “At this stage, I’d rather be dead than have to see him like this.” Steve choked out after a pause. He heard Sam sigh. Not out of frustration, but like he understood.

               “You being dead wouldn’t change how he is. You can still save him.”

               Steve scoffed. “I thought you said he’s the kind you stop.”

               “Well, if what you were saying about how he was on the hellicarrier is true, then you might still have a chance.”

               A chance was all Steve wanted, no matter how slim. If he was right, then Bucky was still in there, and he had to be right: he knew Bucky better than he knew himself. If Bucky was remembering things, then he would want answers, and he definitely wouldn’t stay here in Washington for that. But where would he go? Steve looked up at Sam. “I have to go to Brooklyn.”

               “You think he’ll be there?”

               “Not yet, maybe, but I think he’ll go there if he remembers anything.”

               Sam thought for a second. “So, you wanna move there.”

               That’s when it really occurred to him. He’d be moving to Brooklyn. He’d be going home. To Brooklyn. And the idea didn’t make his heart sink the way it used to; he wanted to go there. Even if it had changed, it would still be Brooklyn. It would still be his home, and it would still be the place Bucky would surely go for answers. “Yeah.” There was a pause. “You don’t have to come with me, you’ve got your whole life here in Washington and…”

               “I’m coming with you. I told you I’d help you find him, didn’t I?” Sam laughed slightly, “Maybe I can become an Avenger or something so I have a proper excuse.”

               “That’s actually a really good idea.”

               “Steve, I was kidding.”

               “But why not? You’d make a great Avenger. You’re already a hero.”

               “Thanks, but your friend broke my wings.”

               “The wings aren’t what makes you a hero, it’s you. The fact that you can fly is just a bonus. And besides, we can fix the wings. Please, at least consider it.”

               Sam sighed. “I’ll consider it. It does sound really fun. Can you just add people to the team like that, though?”

               “Probably. I’ll talk to the others, I’m sure they’ll be more than fine with it.” Steve smiled. “Congratulations, _Falcon_.”

               Sam returned the smile. “Oh, it’s an honour, _Captain America._ ” He lifted the laptop screen back up slightly. “Where are we going to live, though?”

               “We can get an apartment. With a view of the city, and the Hudson. And it can be as big as you want; being an Avenger pays pretty well.”

               “So we’re doing this.”

               “We’re doing this.”

               “I’ll search for apartments; let you know if anything comes up.”

               “I can help…”

               “You need to keep trying to find stuff on Bucky and what they did to him. It might be crucial in finding him, or knowing how to handle him when we do find him.”

               Steve nodded. He was well aware of the fact that if they did somehow find Bucky, he might not recognise him. But there was a chance he would, and he was willing to take that chance.

 

               _Steve_. The man’s name was Steve. And he was right. Bucky _did_ know him, they _had_ been friends, though he could barely remember it further than a few blurry memories of a war, and a little bit before that, back before Steve had undergone what the museum had called “Project Rebirth”, back when he was small and ill and constantly getting into fights. And Bucky had cared about him more than anything. That part wasn’t in the museum, but Bucky was certain of it. He had to find Steve. But would Steve even want to see him? Sure, he had been ready to let Bucky kill him, but the fact that he had tried… the fact that he had hurt him so badly… he must hate Bucky after all that. The thought hurt like crazy. He could barely remember anything about Steve, and yet, the idea that Steve might not want to see him…

               He shook the thought from his head. He still needed more answers. His entire life was missing from him. And there was another name from the museum, another person who might be able to tell him something. He had asked one of the staff members if she was still alive, and when he received a positive response, he asked where he may be able to find her.

               “Sir, that’s not information I’m legally allowed to give out.”

               “Please. She’s an old friend, I have to ask her something.”

               “You look a little young to be an ‘old friend’ of hers.”

               Bucky glanced behind him to a photo of himself. “It’s a long story. I just need to ask her something.” The woman followed his gaze, looked back at him, then at the picture again. Her mouth opened slightly as realisation set in. “Please don’t tell anyone who I am.”

               “I won’t. How the hell did you…”

               “I don’t really remember.”

               She was breathing quite heavily, trying to process it all. Bucky swallowed nervously. “She lives here in D.C. but I don’t know the exact address. I could look it up for you if you want…”

               “Thank you so, so much.”

               He left the Smithsonian just under ten minutes later with a piece of paper with an address on it.

 

               Natasha heard the door of her apartment creak open. She carefully dropped the t-shirt she was folding onto the suitcase in front of her and picked up the loaded gun to her right. She stood up slowly as to not make any noise, turning around with the gun pointed out ready to shoot whoever it was breaking into her place. When she turned around though, it was just Steve standing there, slightly on edge but seemingly not phased with the gun being pointed at him. She lowered it. “What are you doing here?”

               “I just came to let you know that…” His eyes darted to the suitcase. “You going somewhere?”

               “Gotta find a new cover, remember? At first I thought I might go with Fury, but that’s too predictable. Can’t really stay here, either though, can I?” She placed the gun back down. “What was it you came here to say?”

               “Sam and I are going to move to Brooklyn. Just thought I should let you know where to find us.” They were silent for a moment. A thought ran through Natasha’s head, but it was stupid. And then Steve voiced it. “You should come with us.”

               “Steve, I…”

               “No, seriously. You’d be living with me and Sam, so it’s not like you have to be completely alone anymore. Clint lives there too, and you two are really close, so that would be good, you wouldn’t have to drive for five hours to see him anymore. All the Avengers stuff is in New York, if we’re still doing that now that SHIELD’s gone. And I mean, you can’t not like New York, there’s so much great stuff and the city is- “

               “Steve. I have to…”

               “Find a new cover?” He finished her sentence for her. She gave a slight nod. “Why don’t you try actually finding yourself for a change? It’s not like you have anything to lose.”

               They stared at each other for long enough that Natasha knew Steve could tell that she was considering it. He walked back towards the door, still ajar from his entrance, and turned around to face her right as he was about to leave. “Call me if you decide anything.” The door closed behind him. She sat on the couch behind her. His words weren’t empty. He wanted to be friends. He wanted to know the real her… and so did she, she realised with a sigh. She pulled her phone out of her pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS GUYS!!!! wow, it's been... a year. and it's not even over yet damn. but wow i actually am really happy with the way this chapter turned out and i hope you guys are too.  
> except when i was reading back over it and i got to the part where bucky tries to find peggy. but hey, not only is this fanfic, it's set in the mcu. anything can happen!!  
> feel free to leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed it, or recommend it to people!! this sorta stuff means a lot to me you have no idea. sorry it's been a while since i updated, and let's face it, it'll be a christmas miracle if i get chapter 3 up in 2016. but hopefully it will be soon so stay tuned!!


	3. welcome to new york (it's been waiting for you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gang goes on a roadtrip & bucky talks to an old friend  
> (title from welcome to new york by taylor swift)
> 
> (though i very nearly considered naming this chapter after that country roads, take me home song that merlin sings in kingsman the golden circle. you know the one.)

               “So you haven’t been back to Brooklyn since…”

               “The war, yeah.”

               Sam glanced at Steve in the passenger seat from the corner of his eye before looking back at the road, raising an eyebrow. “Why not? You’re always talking about how great the place is, I would have thought it would be the first place you go.”

               Steve exhaled and looked out the window. “I don’t know. Guess I was just worried that it had changed. Or that it hadn’t, and that all the memories there would be too painful to face.”

               They didn’t speak for a minute or so, the only sound coming from the radio. The car was one that belonged to SHIELD before it fell; after all, Sam’s car had been ruined beyond repair barely a month earlier, Steve didn’t have one and Natasha’s had also been SHIELD owned, but much too small to carry three people’s belongings on a five-hour road trip. A lot of the stuff they had was Sam’s, as Natasha travelled pretty lightly and even after three years, Steve still hadn’t really made a home for himself in Washington DC. The car gave out a small beeping noise. Sam glanced at the dash. “You know, I kinda thought that a secret agency might give their secret cars larger gas tanks.”

               “Yeah, well, that secret agency doesn’t really exist anymore, so they probably haven’t had much of a chance to refuel it.” Natasha offered from the backseat.

               “Good point.” Sam said, pulling into a gas station. He got out of the car and started filling it up. Neither Steve nor Natasha said a word until Sam had walked a little bit away from the car to go inside to pay.

               “So,” Natasha began. Steve couldn’t even see her but he could already hear the smirk entering her voice.

               “So?”

               “What about Sam?”

               “What do you mean?”

               “Oh, come on, Steve, you know what I mean. He’s nice, he’s funny, he’s attractive…” Steve sighed. “Seriously, don’t tell me you haven’t even thought about it.”

               “Natasha…”

               “You have!”

               He looked over his shoulder at her. “Of course I have. But, as I’ve said a million times, I’m not looking for anyone. And even if I was, do you honestly think that he would…”

               “Yes.” Steve stared at her. She rolled her eyes. “Oh come on. You _need_ somebody, stop denying it.”

               “I have friends.”

               “You know what I mean.”

               “Can we ever go on a long drive without you questioning me about my love life?”

               “Yep.” He saw her raise her eyebrow and lean back in her seat through the rear-view mirror. “You know, once you actually _get_ a love life.”

 

 

               “Wait, so if you haven’t been back to Brooklyn in like, seventy years, then how do you know what the apartment’s gonna be like?” Natasha piped up suddenly.

               “Saw it online.” Steve responded.

               “And then I made him get your friend, Clint, to go actually check it out.” Sam added.

               “He says it’s exactly like it is online but with less furniture. Which makes sense, I mean, it's not like people just get on the Internet and _lie._ ”

               Sam stifled a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?” Natasha said.

               “What?”

               “Do you know anything about the 21st century?” Sam said.

               “Well, I’ve only been in it for about three years, so…”

               He could hear both of them trying not to laugh, and kind of failing. “When we get to Brooklyn, we’re gonna have to marathon watch Catfish.” Sam chuckled.

 

              

               “Hey, Sam? Do you mind if we stop somewhere with a bathroom real quick? I need to pee.”

               Sam glared at Natasha in the rear-view mirror. “You’re kidding me, right?”

               “I wish I was. I’ve had, like, three bottles of water in the past two hours.”

               Steve raised an eyebrow. “How many of those bottles did we bring?”

               She reached forward and ruffled his hair slightly. “Oh, Stevie, there’s still plenty left if that’s what you’re wondering.”

               “Don’t call me Stevie.” He said, fixing his hair with one hand and holding her back from messing it up again with the other. “You hate it when people other than Clint call you Tasha.”

               “Fair point.” They didn’t speak for a few seconds as Sam pulled into the parking lot of a Baskin Robins. “So, who’s the special somebody that gets to call you Stevie then?”

               “Nobody. It’s… there’s nobody, Nat, we’ve been through this. I just said that because it was the closest comparison I could think of. End of story.”

               “Alright then.” She didn’t exactly sound like she believed him, but it would have to do. She jumped out of the car, holding the three empty plastic bottles and dumped them in the nearest bin before running into the store. Sam and Steve followed her at a more casual pace.

               There was only the one bathroom, but there wasn’t much of a line, so Natasha didn’t have to wait for too long. Steve and Sam got ice cream and sat down at a table.

               “Feels kinda weird, you know? Going back after so long.” Steve said after a while.

               “Must be pretty exciting though. You’re going _home_.”

               “Yeah…”

               “I mean; you’re constantly talking about how much you love it. If it was possible to marry a city, you’d be first in line for Brooklyn.”

               “No, no, Brooklyn’s a borough. The city is New York City itself, Brooklyn is just a fifth of it.”

               “See what I mean?” Sam laughed, and Steve even found himself smiling. He exhaled a small laugh.

               “I can’t wait.”

 

 

               “Well, he was trying to protect Harry, right?”

               “Yeah, but he didn’t have to leave him with the Dursleys.” Sam exclaimed.

               Natasha leaned forward. “But then he wouldn’t have had the protection that let him kill Quirrel.”

               “That had to be from being with a blood relative, right?” Steve asked.

               “Yeah, of Lily’s.”

               “If the Dursleys were the only option, does that mean all her other relatives were dead?”

               “Probably. But surely the protection could have worked just from visiting them every once in a while, right?” Sam added.

               “Crap, maybe.” Natasha said.

               “I hadn’t really thought about it that much.” Steve said.

               “Have you read the books yet?”

               “I’ve only had a chance to watch the movies.”

               Sam glared at him in the corner of his eye. “You haven’t read the books?”

               “I haven’t had the time!”

               “You’ve been out of the ice for three years. Surely there was time somewhere there for something as big as Harry Potter.”

               “There’s been a lot of other stuff to catch up on. Real life stuff. I’ll read them when we get to Brooklyn.”

               Sam smiled. “Looks like you’re gonna be reading them pretty soon, then.”

               Steve almost hadn’t noticed that the bridge they were on was taking them directly to Brooklyn. They had passed over quite a few bridges, and after about half an hour of driving, he had stopped paying as much attention to their exact location. Brooklyn was visible at the end of the bridge. Steve knew it would have changed a lot over seventy years, and he couldn’t really see anything of the city from where they were, but as they came off the bridge, there was a feeling that came with it, one of happiness and nostalgia and comfort and…

               It was a feeling of home.

 

               “I’m here to visit Margaret Carter, I was wondering which room she’s in.”

               “She’s in room 3E, just down that hall over there and on the right.” The receptionist smiled at him as she gestured towards Peggy’s room. “I just need you to sign in as a visitor. Security precaution. She’s a very important woman.”

               Bucky took the guest book and pen being held out to him. Under _name_ , he wrote “James Barnes”. More common than Bucky, and not as obvious. He filled in the rest of the details, date, time, et cetera, then handed it back to her, forcing a smile as he walked away towards the hall.

               His breathing grew heavier as he walked down the hall. What would she say? How would he explain himself? How would she react? Maybe the explaining wouldn’t be too hard. Maybe Steve had come to visit her at some point in the past couple of weeks, and had explained the whole situation. If so, what had he told her about him? He probably hated him. It wouldn’t exactly be a surprise. Bucky had tried to kill him, after all. He stood outside her door, and took a deep breath before raising his right hand and knocking on it. “Come in,” came the voice of a British woman from inside.

               Bucky opened the door, half stepping into the room. “Peggy?” He asked carefully. She sat up slightly in her bed, staring at him in disbelief for a moment. “I’m, um… I’m Bucky Barnes, and I…”

               “You’re still alive.”

 

 

               “Thanks.” Sam smiled as the concierge handed him the keys to their new apartment. He took them with one hand, somehow balancing three boxes in his other arm. Steve looked around the lobby of their new home, even more boxes in his arms, when he felt a small hand tug at his leg. He looked down at it.

               “Excuse me, mister, are you Captain America? You look like Captain America.” The little girl looked up at him with a toothy grin, bouncing up and down slightly.

               Steve looked at Sam and Natasha, who were both clearly holding back laughter. “Yeah, I am. What’s your name?”

               “Sarah.”

               “No way, my mom’s name was Sarah.” Steve said, crouching down to reach her eye level while trying not to topple the pile of boxes in his arms. He heard a tiny burst of laughter from Natasha but ignored it.

               “That’s so cool! My brother didn’t think it was really you.” She turned around to glare at a boy, maybe a year or two younger than her. “I told you!” She cheered. Her brother stuck his tongue out at her, and she responded with an exaggerated version of the same movement. Steve smiled. She turned back to face him, but looked past his shoulder, eyes growing in excitement. She whispered to him. “Is that Black Widow?”

               “Yeah, it-“ Steve began, but before he could finish, the girl had already run over to where Natasha was standing and talking to Sam, and latched herself onto her leg. Natasha and Sam both fell silent as Natasha stumbled ever so slightly at the sudden force crashing into her leg, but quickly regained her balance and stared wide-eyed and blinked at the young girl who had attached herself to her. Steve and Sam exchanged a nervous, silent glance, stifling outbursts of laughter at the startled look on Natasha’s face. It wasn’t that she wasn’t good with children, it was just… actually, pretty much that. She knew what to do with them, but she wasn’t exactly an affectionate person. After a moment, she placed the boxes she was carrying on the concierge desk next to her before crouching down to the height of the girl and smiling, making surprisingly good conversation with her.

               Steve noticed the young boy walking over to Sam before Sam did. He made a quick head movement to draw Sam’s attention to it. “What’s _your_ name?” the girl’s younger brother asked Sam, eyes wide with curiosity.

               Sam smiled. “I’m Sam Wils- “

               “That’s _Falcon._ He’s going to join the Avengers soon.” Steve interrupted. Sam looked over at him.

               The boy looked over at Steve, eyes growing even wider, before turning back to Sam. “Do you have powers too?”

               “Um, I guess so.”

               “He can fly. With wings.” Steve emphasised.

               “Really?” The boy was now jumping up and down with excitement, tugging at Sam’s leg.

               “Yeah, it is.” Sam grinned. He looked up at Steve. “Though I don’t remember when we agreed on the Avengers part.”

               Steve shrugged. “If I remember correctly, it was your idea.” Sam laughed and shook his head.

 

 

               “Steve told me about what they did to you.” Peggy sighed.

               Bucky swallowed down his nerves. “What exactly did he say?”

               She looked at him, eyes flooding with sympathy. “Dear, I haven’t seen him that heartbroken since you fell.” Bucky looked away, trying to process that.

               “So, he’s not…” he began, not meeting Peggy’s gaze. “He’s not angry at me?”

               “Why would he be angry at you?”

               Bucky looked at her. “Peggy… I tried to _kill_ him. Twice.”

               She chuckled. “He doesn’t blame you for that. You were being controlled by Hydra, after all.” Her expression turned solemn. “They grew right under my nose. In SHIELD. How could I let this happen?”

               “Stop. You didn’t notice.”

               “Well, I should have noticed.”

               “They did a pretty good job at keeping it hidden.” He bit his lip. “So… Steve doesn’t hate me?”

               “He could never hate you. That I know for certain.” A massive weight lifted off Bucky’s shoulders at the sound of those words. He barely remembered Steve. But the idea that Steve wasn’t mad at him, that Steve was out there, _heartbroken_ over the idea of seeing him like this… he wanted to run to him. Let him know that he was alive, not okay necessarily, but real. Alive. Maybe remembering things. Remembering _him_.

               “I have to find him.” Bucky said suddenly, almost surprising himself with how certain he sounded.

               Peggy sighed, as if she had known this was coming. “He left for Brooklyn just this morning, with two of his friends.”

               “Brooklyn?” Bucky knew he and Steve had grown up there, thanks to it being mentioned in the Smithsonian. But there was something at the edge of his mind, just out of reach. Blurry memories of their childhood. “That’s where we…”

               “That’s part of why he went back. He thought you might remember it and go back for answers.”

               “I will. I have to. I need to see him.”

 

               “So,” Natasha said, looking around at the massive room in front of them. “This is where we live now, huh?”

               She stood in the doorway, Steve and Sam just behind her. The apartment was, well, big. And empty, naturally. There was a massive window on the wall they were facing, afternoon sunlight pouring through, making every speck of dust floating in the air completely visible. She walked into the apartment slowly, looking around her as she did, before plonking the boxes she was holding on the floor. “Welcome home,” she grinned, throwing her arms up.

               Sam and Steve walked over to her, placing their boxes besides the ones she had already put down. “It’s… big.” Steve said.

               “Yeah, man, not _everything_ on the internet is a lie.” Sam laughed.

               “I didn’t mean that,” Steve sighed. “The apartment I lived in with Bucky after my mom died could have fit into just this room.”

               Both Sam and Natasha gave a sort of half-laugh exhale at the same time. After a few more moments of standing in the vast space and looking around, Sam spoke. “We should probably get the rest of our stuff from the car.”

 

               “I’m just… afraid that I’ll forget him again.” Bucky swallowed, turning to look out the window. The sun was starting to set. How long had he been here for? Steve’s face flashed in his mind again. Laughing, smiling, in a bar somewhere. He was taller, and broader, than he had been in other memories. It must have been during the war. Bucky’s voice was softer when he spoke again. “I don’t want to forget.”

               There was a pause from Peggy. “You could write it all down.”

               “It’s not really much use if I can’t remember what any of it means.”

               “Believe me, it helps a lot. I’m ninety-three, Bucky, my memory has _certainly_ seen better days.” She paused again, before laughing and adding “Not that I remember them. But really. I think I might have a spare notebook in that drawer over there.”

               “Peggy, I can’t just…”

               “Take it. You need it more than I do.”

               He tried to smile, and found it came more naturally than expected. “Thanks.” He got up from his seat beside her bed to grab the notebook from the drawer she had been referring to.

               “Bucky, if there’s anything else I can do to help, anything at all…”

               “If I need anything, I’ll come back. Soon. I swear. Just… thank you.”

               “Oh, and before you leave…” Peggy picked up a frame from her bedside table, a photo of her when she was younger, with a small blonde girl. She carefully removed the back of it to reveal a tiny piece of paper in between the back of the photo and the back of the frame. The paper was worn and yellowed, the edges softened from being held so many times. She picked it up with the utmost care and passed it to Bucky. He held it as delicately as he could with his right hand and turned it around to see what the image was. Even though he already had a slight feeling as to what it would be, his heart still skipped a beat when he saw the small grainy photo of Steve. He wasn’t looking at the camera, focusing on something in the distance. It must have been from during the war; he was wearing dog tags. But he was still skinny. Before the serum. A billion moments flashed through his mind at once, all too brief to grab a hold of, but all of Steve. He took a shaky breath as the picture blurred as his eyes began to swim with tears.

               “After the war finished,” Peggy began to explain, “we were sorting through files at the SSR. Steve had crashed the plane… we all thought he was dead. Somebody handed me Steve’s file, knowing that we were…” She bit her lip. “I loved him. When I opened the file, that photo was in there. I’ve kept it ever since. Having that photo… and not just one of Captain America, but one of Steve, as he was before all this… it reminded me of what a good man he was. That he wouldn’t give up, no matter how bad a situation got. It was a reminder of all Steve was… and I think you need it more than I do now.”

               Bucky tore his gaze away from the photo to look at Peggy. He let the tears spill down his cheeks. “Thank you. Peggy… _thank you_.”

               She smiled. It was weary but happy, and knowing. “You’ll find him, I’m sure of it. Good luck, Bucky.”

 

                
               “I’m not even gonna lie, I totally want to make a fort out of all these boxes.” Natasha gulped down a mouthful of noodles, gesturing at the piles of cardboard boxes with her chopsticks.

               “We haven’t even finished unpacking yet, geez.” Sam chuckled. Steve smiled. Things were different, yeah; but aside from Bucky not being there, it was a good different. It was the sort of different that brought comfort and hope that maybe things were going to be easier. Though it was getting dark outside, he could see Brooklyn outside the window across the room, the city starting to light up as the sun went down. He was home. And it was great.

               Maybe finding Bucky wouldn’t be too hard. Maybe he would show up soon, and he would remember Steve, and he could come live with them here. The apartment had four bedrooms, after all. Maybe he would be okay, and even after all of this… they could be happy.

               “Wait, so where are we going to sleep tonight?” Sam asked. Steve and Nat looked at him and then at each other as they realised what he meant. “I mean, we don’t exactly have… beds… or any sort of furniture, actually.” They were silent for a second, before they all burst into laughter.

               “We could get a whole heap of pillows and put them on the floor.” Steve suggested.

               Natasha’s arm shot into the air. “I second the pillow fort idea.”

               “Sounds like a plan.” Sam agreed.

               Considering they had no couch to hold up an actual pillow fort, they sort of just used some boxes and Steve’s shield to keep the blankets from falling completely on them while they watched an entire season of How I Met Your Mother, and it didn’t take long for them to drift off, actually comfortable and content to just fall asleep in their new home, even after all that had happened.

 

               There was a pocket on the inside of the notebook’s back cover for holding loose papers and other small things. There had been a pen in there when Peggy had given it to him. He was exhausted, but he needed to write down what he could remember. Just in case.

               His name was James Buchanan Barnes.

               Everybody called him Bucky.

               He had been a sergeant in the 107th infantry during WWII.

               He couldn’t quite remember his birthday, though he knew it was in 1917.

               He could remember Steve’s birthday.

               He could remember sitting on the balcony of Sarah Rogers’ apartment with Steve, watching the fireworks on the Fourth of July, telling Steve that they were for his birthday.

               He could remember the way Steve’s eyes would light up when he was talking about something he was passionate about.

               He could remember the way Steve’s eyes lit up the exact same way as he looked at Peggy. He could remember the sinking feeling as he watched Steve fall in love with someone else. He could remember that it felt like falling.

               He could remember falling. And being found by Hydra. And having his arm replaced with a metal one that could punch through just about anything, and he could remember _not remembering, just doing, just killing without a question…_

               He slammed the notebook shut, his breathing heavy. After a moment, he remembered something else. The photo of Steve in his pocket. He pulled it out and stared at it for a moment or two, he didn’t really have any way to tell the time. Eventually, he opened to the back of the notebook where the pen had been and carefully slid the photo into the back cover pocket. He put the notebook into the backpack that he had managed to acquire, before taking off his jacket, placing the backpack under his head like a pillow, and spread the jacket on top of him like a blanket. Sure, it wasn’t the most comfortable way to sleep, but it was better than being imprisoned in ice at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooh! i know it's been forever since i updated this series, but a bunch of comments from @SilverWolf13 made me realise that hey, maybe people still read this!!! and also i've fallen right back into my marvel phase & been writing the lead-up to steve & bucky's reunion. i wrote this particular chapter that you just read literally a year and a half ago, which is wild to think. but things r picking up, guys. they're back in brooklyn. things are happening. buckys may or may not be found.  
> also im cackling bc i just noticed i said "it'll be a miracle if i post chapter 3 in 2016" AHAHAH SIKE BITCH IT'S 2018


	4. "The Gang Go To Ikea"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title's pretty self-explanatory. our friends realise their apartment is completely and utterly lacking in furniture and decide to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. chapter title IS in fact in the style of an it's always sunny in philadelphia episode title, feel free to get the tune stuck in your head  
> 2\. the little section from bucky's perspective features contemplation of suicide so skip that if it's upsetting to you, i'll put a brief summary of it in the end notes

               “Woah, this is _huge!”_ Clint exclaimed as he walked into their apartment for the first time.

               “That’s what I said!” Steve replied at the same time that Natasha snickered “That’s what she said,” under her breath.

               “Hey, Tasha,” Clint smiled, giving her a quick hug. She had to go onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He turned to face Sam. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Clint Barton.”

               “Sam Wilson. So, you’re the guy who apparently has the world’s cutest dog.”

               Clint turned to Natasha and whispered “You told him about Lucky?” with a huge smile. Natasha shrugged with a smile of her own. Clint turned back to face Sam. “Well, I don’t like to brag, but…”

               “It’s like all he talks about.” Steve said.

               Clint stumbled over various comebacks, accompanied by some rather wild facial expressions before finally settling on “That’s not entirely… okay, so maybe I do, what gives? He’s a great dog. I mean, all dogs are great but…”

               “So! What do you guys wanna do for breakfast?” Natasha clapped once loudly to snap Clint out of what she knew would develop into a very long rant about dogs and how great they are.

               “Well, we don’t really have anywhere around here to sit down and eat, so it looks like we’re going out.” Sam said.

               Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in thought for a second. “I think I may know a place. I don’t know if it’ll still be open but if it is… prepare for the best pancakes of your life.”

 

 

               “Holy _fuck_ this is heavenly.” Clint groaned through a mouthful of pancake. Nat and Sam both grimaced at the crumbs falling with every word. Steve kind of hummed an agreement; it’s a bit hard to actually speak while your mouth is full of coffee. He gulped down the coffee.

               “I know right? God, I’ve missed this.”

               “We should come here, like, _all the time,_ man, this is incredible.”

               “I agree, this is actually really, really good.” Sam added.

               Natasha sighed. “Yeah. Yeah it is.” She was slightly smiling though. “So, what do you guys wanna do today? Are we starting the Bucky Hunt already?”

               Sam, Nat, and Clint all looked at Steve, who sort of just looked down. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste any opportunities, but I also just… I need a break. From everything.”

               The other three nodded knowingly as if they had kind of expected that answer. “You know what we should do?” Sam said, “Get some damn furniture for our apartment.”

 

 

               Steve’s jaw dropped as he saw the massive blue building coming up in front of them. “That’s a _furniture store?”_ He exclaimed.

               “Yep. Welcome to IKEA.” Natasha deadpanned from the backseat. Steve looked at the rear view mirror; she had somehow managed to drape her legs over Clint’s whilst still wearing the seatbelt.

               “Possibly the greatest thing Sweden has ever contributed to the world.” Sam said.

               “Um, excuse me?” Clint objected. “What about ABBA?”

               “They’re a very, very close second best.”

 

 

               “Where the hell are we even meant to start?”

               “I’ll grab a map.” Sam said, walking towards the maps, “even though there’s literally arrows on the ground pointing in the direction to go in…”

               “We should start at the food court.” Clint grinned. He put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Dude. The meatballs here are legendary. Iconic. Literally incredible.”

               Natasha looked up from her map. Steve was going to ask how she had already gotten one when Sam handed one to him too. “We literally just had breakfast, Clint.”

               “Well, considering there’s pretty much only one way to tackle this thing, and it starts at the food court, I guess we have no choice.” Sam pointed out.

               “Ha!” Clint somehow managed to yell without being too loud.

               Natasha rolled her eyes. “Well, at least you’re right about the meatballs.”

 

 

               He certainly was right about the meatballs. But after that, they really did need to start looking at stuff for their apartment. They made it about ten feet into the first section before Clint’s stomach made possibly one of the ghastliest noises ever. The other three all turned to look at him.

               He sighed. “Aw, damn.”

               Natasha raised an eyebrow. “I have literally seen you drop pizza face down on the incredibly dirty floor, wait long enough to pick it up that Lucky has had a chance to lick it and also kinda walk on it, and you pick it up and eat it without problem…” the other eyebrow raised, weirdly menacing for the topic of conversation, “and it’s the _goddamn IKEA meatballs_ that get you.”

               Clint shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know the science behind it.”

               Natasha put her face in her hands. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. Sam just sighed. “You know what, just go to the bathroom. We’ll go ahead. Just follow the arrows on the ground and you’ll come across us eventually. It can’t be that hard, right?” Sam suggested.

 

 

               Natasha pointed towards a cream coloured sofa. “What about that one?”

               Sam nodded. “It’s nice, it complements the general vibe of the apartment that we seem to be going for. Does it come in a three seater?”

               She flipped over the tag on the arm of the couch. “It sure does. Steve?”

               “It’s comfy.” Steve stated, sitting down on it.

               “Like, comfy comfy?” Sam started.

               “Or ‘I grew up during the Great Depression and therefore have low furniture quality standards’ comfy?” Natasha finished, quirking an eyebrow up.

               Steve rolled his eyes. “Comfy…” he began, though Natasha’s ringtone cut him off. She pulled out her phone and groaned as she answered it. There were a few seconds of silence as she listened, not even greeting the person at the other end. And then she spoke, and didn’t exactly sound pleased.

               “You’re kidding me right? How hard is it to follow some goddamn arrows on the floor? You love arrows, you should notice them. No, we’re… Jesus Christ, Clint. No, I don’t. Well where are you then?” Sam and Steve exchanged a glance and stifled laughter as Natasha’s expression became somewhat lethal. “A Bug’s Life? Really? I don’t care how much you love it, Barton, we are here to find stuff for a real goddamn apartment, not to watch some goddamn Disney movies. I don’t give a fuck how comfy the goddamn beanbags are!”

 

 

               “These light fittings are pretty cool,” Sam said, looking up at the ceiling, from which hung a vast array of eccentric lights.

               “Yeah, they actually are.” Natasha agreed. She looked down from the ceiling and not quite over her shoulder. “What do you think, Steve?” When she wasn’t met with an answer, she turned completely around and for some reason, wasn’t surprised to see that he wasn’t there. “Goddamn it,” she muttered, pulling out her phone and calling him.

               He picked up almost straight away. “Hey, I was just about to call you.”

               “Where the hell are you, Steve?”

               “I’m in the closet…”

               “Well, I already knew that.” She smirked. Sam gave her a look that asked her to explain the joke, which reminded her that he didn’t know. Crap.

               “Section, Natasha. The closet _section_.”

               “Right. Yep. How the hell did you end up there exactly? Because Sam and I are looking at lights, Steve.” She heard Sam mutter “And _this_ is why I grabbed that map,” under his breath.

               “I’m not even entirely sure. Look, just… I’ll keep going, and we’ll be sure to run into each other eventually. Is there any sign of Clint yet?”

               “No, no there isn’t.”

               Steve sighed, exasperated. “Has he at least called or texted you or anything?”

               “He told me that he was going to just follow the arrows on the ground and be a responsible adult and wouldn’t get lost or need my help.” She said, anger creeping into her voice.

               “Well, he’s gotta show up soon. I’ll be there in a minute, just keep going and I’ll catch up.” He said before hanging up.

               Nat let out a quiet, closed-mouth scream. Sam looked at her. “So what was so funny?”

               “What?”

               “When you said something about already knowing something, or… something.”

               “…Nothing.”

               “Okay... Where is he?”

               “He’ll catch up with us.”

 

 

               It had been a month now. Just under a month, really, since it all happened. And while he didn’t have anywhere to sleep, anything to eat, and could barely even remember his name, Bucky was glad it had happened. And he felt guilty as hell for being glad about it. He felt purposeless now, and lost. God, he was lost. He had managed to talk to Peggy, yes, but that didn’t stop the fact that he was a million miles away from Steve. Not that it would matter, anyway. If he went back to Steve, he would probably get killed. If he tried to find a shelter for the homeless, someone would probably recognise him, call somebody, get him killed. If he went back to his handlers – no, _Hydra_ , they were bad people, and he didn’t belong to them any longer – they would surely just kill him for running away, failing his mission, and everything else. Or they’d torture him. Wipe him again. When he was finally remembering. He couldn’t go back to them, let them turn him back from Bucky to the Winter Soldier. But if he stayed here, where he wouldn’t die, he’d be miserable. He’d be purposeless, and lost. Memories, and nothing to do with them.

               Maybe dying would be preferable. He had been trained. It was literally engrained in his mind – he could make it look like an accident, so that if anyone found him, they wouldn’t suspect he did it himself. He kept all his gear in his backpack, just in case he needed to defend himself. He opened the bag… and caught sight of the notebook placed carefully on top of everything else in there. He swallowed. The poster from the Smithsonian was sticking out of it, Steve’s face in full view. Steve. Every time Bucky saw his face, it was like being hit with a lightning bolt of memories. He wouldn’t hate him, surely. And even if he did, so what? It was a risk that Bucky was willing to take. It was a risk he _had_ to take. He was going to get to Brooklyn. Somehow.

 

 

               Sam tossed a plush dragon toy from a nearby basket into the air and caught it. “This is ridiculous. How did they get so hopelessly lost in a furniture store?”

               Natasha rubbed at her eyes. “Who knows. I feel like if it were just the three of us who actually _live in the apartment that the furniture is for_ , this probably wouldn’t be happening, but no, Clint goddamn Barton just has to…”

               A teenage girl in a purple jacket nearby looked at them suddenly. “Did you just say you came here with Clint Barton?”

               Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, why?”

               “Good luck finding him,” the girl laughed.

               “Do you know him or something?” Sam asked, exchanging a dubious glance with Natasha.

               “The guy’s practically my sidekick, it’s no big deal.” she said nonchalantly, flipping her black hair off her shoulder.

               Natasha stared at her. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

               “Hawkeye.” The girl winked, doing finger guns with both hands. A man, presumably her father, a few feet away called to her, and she walked over to him, backwards at first, still doing the finger guns. Nat looked over at Sam, who shrugged.

               Just then, Steve jogged over to them, looking strangely dishevelled for someone whose most strenuous activity of the day is being lost in IKEA. Natasha and Sam looked at each other.

               “Dude, what the hell did you do?” Sam said, eyes growing wide.

               “Oh, it’s nothing. Got in a fight with some guy, no big deal.”

               Sam and Nat both frantically started ranting at Steve over the top of each other. Steve held up a hand to silence them as if it was nothing that he had managed to pick a fight while shopping for furniture. “I told you, it was _nothing_. Well, it wasn’t. This jerk hit his kid. I hit him. That went back and forth for a bit, he called me a few names that I thought we had left in the 20 th century but apparently I was wrong, and we both almost got kicked out but I explained the situation and then they recognised me as Captain America and let me stay. I’m not always the biggest fan of playing that card, but this guy deserved it. Trust me.” He was answered with silence. “Find anything?”

               “Some of these beds are pretty nice,” Nat said, miraculously regaining composure despite the fact that Steve was sure she turned a little red and had steam coming from her ears only a second or two earlier.

               “And that girl over there claims that Clint’s her sidekick.” Sam gestured towards the girl, who must have known she was being mentioned at that moment, because she looked at them and waved, nodding slightly. Sam rolled his eyes.

 

 

               Who knows how long later, they finally ended up near the end of it all. Sam looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. “Alright, so we just pay for all this stuff, pick up the flat packs, find Clint, and this nightmare is over.”

               “Yeah, though it would be a lot easier to find him if _this stupid phone got a damn signal,_ ” Nat grunted, punctuating each syllable by slamming her phone against the palm of her other hand, as if that would somehow knock a signal into it. Steve and Sam both looked at her, silent. She shrunk inwards, mumbling slightly. “Sorry. IKEA’s really getting to me.”

               “It’s getting to all of us,” Steve sighed, looking off as if he were about to launch into some grand speech. “I have been on this planet for ninety-six years. All of those years have been fraught with danger but never did I think my downfall would be a Swedish furniture store.”

               Sam narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been completely fine, dude. Clint’s the one who’s gone missing.”

               “Sam, I punched a man. I literally got into a fight with someone. And it wasn’t even about the furniture. You’re the only one who’s kept your composure the entire time we’ve been here.”

               “…I am?”

               “I’m pretty sure. You know, unless something happened while I was off nearly getting kicked out of IKEA for punching a man.”

               “Huh. Nat, did I…”

               “Nope,” she said before he even finished his sentence. “Congrats, Sam, you won IKEA.”

               They moved up to the cash register, and were halfway through all their stuff being scanned when Nat let out the angriest sounding exhale Sam had ever heard. Sure enough, when he looked where she was looking, there was a man with dirty-blond hair and a purple t-shirt, signing something. Sam couldn’t understand sign language, but it certainly looked confused.

Though, he was pretty confused too. Because _Clint was on the other side of the registers_. Meaning he had gotten through the entire store before them and without them noticing. Steve leaned over to Sam, whispering. “How the hell did he get there?”

               “I was just thinking that,” Sam replied.

               Nat signed something nasty looking at Clint. Sam was glad he didn’t know the exact details of what was being said.

 

 

               The car ride home was eerily quiet for the first ten minutes or so. Sure, the radio was on, but nobody was talking. Steve hadn’t felt an atmosphere that icy since he had plunged into the Atlantic to stop New York from being bombed by Hydra.

               He wasn’t even sure _why_ it was so tense. It wasn’t like just one of them had succumbed to the IKEA stress. They all had had their moments. Except Sam. Which is why Steve was so vocally supportive of him being the one who drives them back. If it was one of the other three – particularly Nat – things probably wouldn’t go super smoothly.

               Eventually, Sam spoke. “Well that was… messy.”

               “We did get everything we needed though, right? Because I was missing for most of it and I don’t really wanna go back,” Clint said.

               “Not everything. Some stuff we’ll need to go to Pottery Barn for,” Nat replied.

               Steve glanced back at her. “Please tell me it’s nothing like IKEA. I don’t know if I could do that again.”

               “Don’t worry, you can’t get lost in Pottery Barn,” Sam laughed. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if you manage to pick another fight.”

               “Ooh, speaking of Pottery Barn, we should make you watch Friends. Have you watched Friends? You should watch it,” Clint piped up.

               Nat slowly turned to look at him. “What does that have to do with Pottery Barn?”

               “You know, the episode with Phoebe’s “apothecary table”, and then Ross gets the exact same one, and they can’t let Phoebe know because she thinks it’s an original,” Clint sighed as if it were obvious. Steve was just as lost as he had been in IKEA.

               Sam clearly noticed this, because he said “It’s a sitcom from the 90s. And based off how much you were laughing at How I Met Your Mother last night, I’m gonna say you’ll like it.”

               “Oh, cool,” Steve said. It was quiet for another moment, before something occurred to him. “Hey, is it just me, or does Robin kinda look like Agent Hill?”

               “…Holy shit, she does,” Nat said. “Like, eerily so.”

               “Who’s Agent Hill?” Sam asked.

               “The one who stopped us from getting taken by Hydra and knew Fury was still alive.”

               “Oh, the one who looks like Robin from How I Met Your Mother?”

               “Yeah, that one.”

               Clint seemed to be pondering it. “I don’t really see it.”

               Everyone else exploded into a chorus of “what?” and “come on!” and “dude, seriously?”

               He shrugged. “I mean, they have similar face shapes and the same hair colour but that’s about it.”

               “Clint, they’re practically identical,” Nat exclaimed.

               Clint just shrugged again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeeeeet ya girl's back!!!! i honestly have no idea how regularly i'm gonna post on this but i'm posting again and That's What Matters. also the next chapter is gonna jump back in time... a considerably large amount... and is gonna be the first proper true instance of what you're all definitely here for..... Hell Yeah.
> 
> (so basically what happened in the bucky section if you skipped over it, is he basically thinks he has nowhere to go because obviously he can't go back to hydra but he's terrified of going to steve & being hated and he's like "well it's not like i have a purpose or anything" and is about to do it when he sees the notebook (ya know, the one from on top of the fridge in civil war) and the photo of steve sticking out of it and it triggers some of his memories and he's like "what the fuck am i doing, i need to find steve" and decides to go to brooklyn)


	5. 5+1 steve and bucky kisses, part one: the first kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> once upon a time in brooklyn in either the very end of the 30s or the very start of the 40s, who knows, a guy named bucky found out that his best friend (who he may or may not have feelings for, and who may or may not reciprocate said feelings) had never been kissed and decided to do something about that.

               “It’s just not fair!”

               Steve sighed, closing the door to his apartment. He walked behind Bucky. “It’s nothin’, alright? Guess I just gotta wait for…”

               “No, don’t you give me that ‘the right partner’ crap. You know damn well that if you saw someone else being treated like that, you wouldn’t ignore it.” Bucky glanced over his shoulder at Steve.

               He opened his mouth to retort, but Bucky was right. “Look, it’s not my fault that people don’t wanna give me a chance. And it seems to be just about everyone who feels that way, and as much as I’d like to, I’m not gonna fight all of New York to get a _date_ , Bucky.”

               Bucky sat down on the couch, though he was clearly still filled with rage. “Yeah, well… people are stupid.” Steve snorted out a half-laugh at just how terrible but true that was. Bucky took a deep breath. “And not _everyone_ feels like that.”

               He seemed to avoid Steve’s eye contact when he said that, as though there was something that was going unsaid. Steve’s heart began to race, not exactly unusual, but this time not because of a medical issue. Instead, it was because of hope. That the thing going unsaid was a feeling. And it was the same one that he felt for Bucky. He knew how unlikely that was, but that didn’t stop his heart racing at the thought. He sat next to Bucky. “Sure they don’t. I’ve never even kissed anyone. Why d’you think that is?”

               “This is exactly what I mean, Steve. It’s not fair at all. They don’t even give you a chance, it’s…”

               “Well, if it means so much to you, then why don’t _you_ just kiss me?” The words fell from Steve’s mouth without properly thinking them through. Bucky stopped talking. He stared at Steve, lips slightly parted, an indecipherable expression across his face. Steve realised what he had just said, and, as much as he wanted it, was regretting it. What if Bucky hated him? Even if his words had probably just sounded like a joke, that didn’t make them less dangerous if taken seriously. “Buck, I… I didn’t mean…”

               “I will.” They fell back into silence. That little bit of futile hope kicked in again. “I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to…”

               “No, I…” _I want to._ “Yes.”

               “Okay…”

               “So, we’re doing this?”

               “Yeah.” Bucky’s eyes flitted over to the front door, then to the clock in the corner. It was an hour until Steve’s Ma got home from work. More than enough time. Just the two of them. Just a kiss. Just something and some _one_ Steve wanted more than anything, just someone who mattered more than anything in the world.

               Just a kiss. Right?

                             

              

 

               They sat in silence for a few minutes. There was plenty of time until Sarah would get home, but every second felt like an eternity wasted. But Bucky wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like _he_ hadn’t kissed anyone before, he most certainly had. But none of them were Steve. None of them were the guy he’d secretly been head-over-heels for since he was fourteen. Yet, there he was. Steve had asked Bucky to kiss him. And Bucky was panicking.

               “Well?” Steve asked, snapping Bucky out of his stupor.

               “What?”

               “Are we, um… gonna…”

               “Oh. Oh, right. Yes, we are, I’m just…” Bucky inhaled sharply. “I need some water.” He got up and walked over to the kitchen.

               “Look, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Steve said.

               Bucky’s hands were shaking slightly as he poured the glass of water. “No, I…” _I want to._ He did. He had wanted it more than anything for ages and here was his golden opportunity. “I’m just nervous, y’know? What if I mess up? This is your first kiss, Stevie, I don’t want it to be bad or anything.” He gulped down the entire glass in one go, then slowly begun to walk back to the couch.

               Steve almost laughed. “From what I’ve heard, you don’t have to worry about that.”

               Bucky rolled his eyes. “Punk. Now am I gonna kiss you or not?”

 

 

 

               It was actually relieving that the reason Bucky almost backed out was because he was scared he wasn’t good enough. Maybe this _did_ mean as much to Bucky as it did to Steve.

               Just maybe.

               Steve took a deep breath, and leaned in closer. His eyes shut without even really meaning to. He just kept leaning in until he was close enough…

               And then their noses crashed against each other. Hard. Steve’s hand covered his face, and he could feel a tiny trickle of blood from his nose. Not much, but not exactly what he wanted to happen. His eyes were open now, though still scrunched in pain. He looked at Bucky, who was also grabbing at his nose in pain and shock. “Ouch,” he laughed slightly, sounding kind of nasally. Steve started laughing too, though that just sent another wave of pain through his nose. “Are you okay?” Bucky asked, reaching for Steve with his free hand.

               “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” Steve responded, attempting to make a casual “it’s no big deal” gesture but he accidentally whacked Bucky’s arm. “I’m… oh crap. Sorry.”

               Bucky looked startled for half a second, but he just laughed. “Steve. I’m okay.” he said, his hand wrapping around Steve’s where it was still frozen in mid-air from the shock of accidentally hitting Bucky. It was like an electrical current went through his arm, shooting down from where Bucky’s fingers were. They just sat there for a second, like that. Steve couldn’t stop staring at Bucky, the way his steely-blue eyes were lit up with a smile. He felt his breathing growing heavy. After a moment, Bucky almost imperceptibly shook his head. “I, uhh, are you sure you’re okay?”

               “Yeah, yeah. I think I’m just gonna go, you know, wash the blood off my face. Don’t think you’d want the kiss to taste like blood.” He got up and went to walk over to the bathroom, adding under his breath with a snicker; “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

               Apparently Bucky had heard him, because he was then hit in the back with a cushion. They both laughed.

 

 

               Bucky wasn’t actually entirely sure when or why they had ended up sitting on the floor, though he didn’t really mind too much. They still had more than enough time. He breathed. “Okay, so are we actually going to kiss this time?”

               “Yeah, yeah, it’s just…” Steve muttered.

               Bucky scooted closer, until their knees brushed against each other. “What’s wrong?”

               Steve exhaled heavily. “What if _I’m_ not good enough? I’ve never done this before, I could be complete shit at it for all we know. And you’re gonna have to live through that, you’re gonna be reminded of that every time you see me, probably, and…”

               “Steve.” Bucky said, and Steve stopped talking, and just looked at Bucky. “You’ll always be good enough for me.”

 

 

               _You’ll always be good enough for me_. The words echoed in Steve’s mind as Bucky’s eyes shut, as he watched Bucky’s chest rise and fall as he breathed out the word “Okay”, before opening his eyes again and shuffled even closer, if that was even possible. His hand reached out and gently cupped around the back of Steve’s neck, pulling him in as Bucky leaned towards him. Bucky’s eyes shut again, though this time the movement was a lot gentler, almost slightly involuntary. Steve didn’t want to stop looking at him, though as their mouths touched together, his eyes closed too. He leaned in to the kiss, barely registering the fact that he was out of air and his heart was going a million miles an hour, because this time, it was the good kind. Bucky’s lips were soft, and Steve wished he could stay in this moment forever. After what felt like both a lifetime and not nearly long enough, they pulled apart, breathless. Steve watched as Bucky sat there, mouth slightly open, blinking hard, before clearing his throat.

               “So…”

               “So.” Steve’s eyes darted around the room, though they kept coming back to Bucky, never quite making eye contact.

               Bucky ran a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. “That was… I mean, it happened...”

               “Yeah…” Steve was acutely aware of the fact that he must’ve been blushing like crazy. “I, uhh… I’m gonna get some water…”

               As he was just about to enter the kitchen, he heard Bucky call his name. He turned around to face him. He hadn’t moved from where he was sitting. There was something in his eyes, something being unsaid that Steve couldn’t quite place a finger on. He made proper eye contact with Steve for the first time since before the kiss. “Looks like you didn’t have to worry about anything after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHOHOH YEAH!!! bucky was DEFINITELY steve's first kiss and you can pry this from my cold, dead hands.  
> i actually wrote this like.... ages ago but as you all know i straight up just didn't post for a year and a half so like. shruggy emoji.  
> anyway leave kudos or comment if you enjoyed!!! preferably comments please i want to talk to people about this


	6. girls like girls like boys do (nothing new)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> natasha, surprisingly, opens up about a part of who she is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know DAMN WELL what song the title is from

**july 4 th, 2014**

               Steve looked out at the glistening Manhattan lights from the balcony of Stark Towers. Well, Avengers Tower. It had supposedly become the hub for their team after the Battle of New York two years earlier, but aside from meetings, it didn’t feel like a very large portion of their time was spent there. At first, sure, but it dwindled after time. And even if it was meant to be for all of the Avengers, the place still had an undeniably strong Tony vibe about it. But it was the Fourth of July, and Steve’s birthday, so naturally Tony had insisted on throwing a party at the Tower. Steve was pretty sure it was just an excuse to have a party.

               “Hey,” a voice said from behind him.

               He turned around to see Nat, sitting on a step. The stairs in question were purely decorative. Or maybe purely furniture. Either way, they led to nowhere, but they were certainly a good place to sit. Kind of like those red things they had in Times Square nowadays, though he was pretty sure there was something underneath those, at least. “How long have you been sitting there?”

               “About five minutes.”

               He narrowed his eyes. “I came out here like, a minute ago, how did I not notice you? How did nobody inside notice you leaving either?”

               She shrugged. “Don’t know if you remember this, but I’m literally trained to be able to make myself as unnoticeable as possible when needed.” She slid over slightly, patting the now empty space beside her on the step. Steve sat down beside her. “Plus, you seemed pretty deep in thought when you came out here.”

               “I suppose so. That, and the party just felt a bit too…”

               “Too Stark?”

               “You could certainly say that.”

               “You know, the same month you were found in the ice, I had to go undercover as his assistant to try and convince him to join the Avengers Initiative.”

               He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

               Nat nodded. “He thought my name was Natalie Rushman. And you should’ve seen the sort of parties he threw back when they were all about him. I literally wore part of the Iron Man suit and got to blast shit with it. I’m pretty sure that was the same night he and Rhodey got into a huge fight and completely destroyed his house in Miami.”

               “Didn’t that get destroyed in an explosion around Christmas last year?”

               “It’s been destroyed many times.”

               “So he didn’t know that you’re a secret agent?”

               “Nope.”

               Steve looked back out at the city. “Do you remember when we were going to Brooklyn and I said that I was scared to go back in case it had changed beyond recognition?”

               “Yeah?”

               “It’s changed there, obviously, it’s been seventy-one years since I was last there, but it still feels like home, you know? But Manhattan is like a completely different place. And that’s a good thing, but it just feels so… strange. If it weren’t for the Empire State and the Chrysler, I’d be pretty sure I was being lied to about my location.”

               “Makes sense. It’s a pretty weird place anyway, but I can only imagine how weird it’d feel if you actually had memories of what it was like seventy years ago. But hey, at least I’m here for you to do all the fun tourist stuff with.”

               “Huh?”

               “Well, every time I’ve been to New York it’s either been on business or just hanging out with Clint, so I’ve never really experienced the city beyond defending it. Or assassinating people. You know how it goes.”

               “Right,” he said. He looked down, then back at her, a thought occurring to him. “Hey, Nat? How come you have an American accent?”

               She looked as if she were wondering where to begin.

               “I mean, you don’t have to answer that if it’s part of a giant tragic backstory that’s going to upset you or anything, it just actually registered in my mind that you, you know, were born and raised in Russia, but…”

               “No, it’s fine, it’s backstory but not the giant tragic parts. And about the only just realising? You’d be surprised how few people actually realise.”

               “Seriously?”

               “Mhm. So basically, we were trained literally our entire lives to have flawless American accents when we spoke English so we’d be able to fit in seamlessly on missions. I mean, if you were an American politician during the Cold War and you were at some function and someone came up and started seducing you but she had a Russian accent? You’d suspect that she was trying to either get information from you or kill you. Though I mean, they did this even before the Cold War. And I mean since they were founded… pretty much the same time the Soviet Union was? But they weren’t actually called the Red Room until the Cold War.”

               “What were they before that?”

               “Leviathan.”

               “…I think I’ve heard of them.”

               “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if Peggy had mentioned them to you. They weren’t exactly her biggest fans.”

               He smiled, imagining just how much grief Peggy probably gave them back in the day. He went to say something, but Nat cut him off before his mouth had even fully opened, a concerned edge to her voice that he hadn’t heard since the day at Sam’s house before SHIELD fell.

               “Steve? If I told you something about myself, would you promise not to tell anyone else?”

               “Of course,” he replied, hoping she could see and hear that he meant it. Though considering everything that had happened, he wondered what it could possibly be that the world didn’t already know about her.

               “It’s not anything to do with my past,” she said, as if she had read his mind. “It’s a personal thing, but… I don’t know, I’m not the greatest at opening up to people and Clint’s the only other person who knows about this but…”

               “Nat, whatever it is, you can trust me.”

               “I know, believe me, the fact that it’s _you_ I’m telling this is no accident.”

               “What do you mean, the fact that it’s _me?”_

“Steve, I’m bisexual.”

               “…Ohhhhh.”

               She sighed, leaning back slightly. “I’m not really sure why I felt like you should know that but… you do now.”

               They sat in silence for a moment, before she continued.

               “I mean, I guess I kind of am sure why. I know I said I’m bad at opening up to people, and that is still very much the case but… I don’t know. I trust you, for some reason. And you’re bi too, so it’s… I feel comfortable with the thought of you knowing, you know what I mean?”

               “Yeah, I do.”

               “It’s just…” She leaned her head back, eyes closed, and inhaled. “It took me ages to properly come to terms with it. I was raised to use sex as a weapon, to seduce people into trusting me. It was just part of my job. So whenever I was genuinely attracted to someone, I just kind of shoved the feeling away. And then I got out of all of that, and I let myself feel things a little bit more, but I still ignored anything I felt for women. Pretended it was just admiration, or jealousy, or both. Then, maybe like, eight years ago, I met someone and she kinda made me realise a few things. We weren’t together for very long but I realised a few things because of her. Like the fact that I’m not straight. And the fact that that’s okay. She never knew about what I do for a living, though, so I don’t really consider her on the list of people that knows I’m bi, if that makes sense.”

               “It does. Especially if you didn’t stay in contact with her or anything.”

               “I didn’t.”

                He wasn’t sure what to say to fill the silence that had fallen, partially because his experiences were quite different to hers, and partially because this was probably the longest she had spoken openly about something she usually keeps secret. Just before the silence became too uncomfortable, though, she continued speaking.

               “Plus, it was probably the easiest part of myself to think about and come to terms with, considering it’s something other people can actually relate to, you know? Tackle the basic identity stuff first, the stuff I’d be no matter where I was raised or who by, and then deal with the trauma another day. I told Clint maybe… five years ago? About a year after we actually officially got together. I just felt like it was something he should know, even if we weren’t dating, considering how much he knew about me and my past and how much I know about him and his. If I was gonna confide in anyone, it was gonna be him.”

               Steve looked at her. She was still looking out at the city as if she had said nothing out of the ordinary. “So… you and Clint _are_ actually a couple, then.”

               Nat glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes. “Yep. I’m actually kind of surprised you didn’t know.”

               “Well, it’s not exactly like either of you ever said anything. We’ve all spent the last few years guessing whether you were just really close friends or if you were together and keeping it a secret. And by guessing, I mean Tony, Bruce, and Maria actually have a bet on it.”

               She let out a snort of a laugh that surprised both of them. “ _That_ doesn’t surprise me. So who’s winning?”

               “Considering you’re actually together? Bruce.”

               “Alright, let me guess. He’s betting that we’re together and keeping it secret. Maria’s betting that at some point in the very, very near future, we’re gonna realise we’ve had feelings this entire time and that we should probably do something about that. And Tony’s betting that we’re just gonna hook up while on some mission and try and leave it at that but that’s gonna eventually develop into something more.”

               “That’s… exactly what they’re betting.”

               “Well, Tony isn’t entirely wrong, except it happened about six years ago in Hungary so he kind of is.”

               Before he could implore for more of an explanation, Clint walked over to them. Natasha stood up, a cold look coming over her face.

               “Hey, guys, what are we ta- “

               “Barton. Our cover’s been compromised.”

               His face turned serious. “What happened?”

               “I told Steve that we’re dating.”

               He sighed, sitting down beside Steve. “Dammit, Tasha, I thought you were being serious.”

               “What actual cover could I possibly have been talking about?”

               Clint shrugged as Nat sat back down, in his lap.

               “Wait, if he knows, does that mean… the bet?”

               Nat and Steve exchanged a look. “You know about the bet?” Steve asked.

               “I was in the room when they made it. I think they thought I was asleep.”

                “But you weren’t?” Steve said, immediately hearing how stupid that sounded once the words were already out of his mouth.

               “Either that, or my hearing aids are so powerful that I can actually listen to real conversations while I’m asleep,” Clint mused, wonder across his face.

               Nat furrowed her brow. “Babe. They made the bet before you went deaf. It was literally two years ago.”

               “Time, my dear Natalia, is an illusion.”

               Steve laughed. “That, I can personally attest to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen. Listen. by the end of this whole series, you'll be wondering if anyone in the mcu is straight. the answer, of course, is yes; thanos is a heterosexual. but that's beside the point. this was originally gonna be a lot longer but then i actually really liked the way it ended and realised that everything else i was planning on writing could easily be threaded into later scenes. uhhh thanks 4 reading, i was hoping i could get this posted in pride month but that didnt work out because of a solid combination of "executive dysfunction" and "not being in the country or having access to my laptop for the last week of pride month". leave kudos or comments if you enjoyed!


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